I Think It's Going To Be A Long, Long Time
by rlylaughable
Summary: Kirk, McCoy, and Chekhov investigate an uncharted planet, which turns out to be far more civilized than previously anticipated. Hijinx ensue. Warnings: Lots of language and lots of dialogue.


"What's that?"

"It's a planet, dumbass."

"No, I mean what planet _is _it."

"Oh. How should I know?"

"Because you're the fucking captain!"

"Well, yeah, but not until _recently_."

"Do you evergive up an argument?"

"I dunno. So what? Wanna fight about it?"

"No, Jim, I don't wanna fight about it."

"Good, 'cause you'd lose."

"Would you guys please focus?" Spock yelled as he tapped at the screen before him.

"Sorry," said McCoy.

"Sorrier," said Kirk.

"Sorriest!"

"Shut up, Scotty!"

"This makes me wonder what happens with four competitive idiots." Spock mumbled, "Nope, that planet is not recorded anywhere. Someone's gotta go down there."

"Ew, why?" Kirk said with a disgusted sneer.

"Five year mission? Explore strange new worlds? Seek out new life and new civilizations? Boldly go where no man has gone before? _Ringing any motherfucking bells?_"

"…not really,"

"That's it. You're going."

"What? No! You can't make me, I have seniority! Or something!"

"Yeah, something; try a report to Starfleet about your abuse of power."

"What abuse of power!"

"Requiring that 'Theme to Shaft' be played whenever you enter a room?"

"We gotta use that speaker system _somehow_."

"I don't think that would hold up in court."

Kirk paused, opening his mouth portentously and then closing it several times.

"I'll take that as agreement," Spock said, a satisfied smile on his face, "We'll need someone skilled at medicine, knowledgeable of its practice. A nurse? No. A pharmacist? No. A…"

"Doctor! Doctor, doctor, doctor!" McCoy yelled, "Fine, I'll fucking go, for God's sake. Just shut up!"

"Thank you for volunteering, Dr. McCoy. We'll need another crew member, as well."

"I'll do it!" Chekhov chirped, standing.

"Excellent! We'll beam you all down, just have to gather the proper equipment." Spock said, beginning to leave.

"Hold on!" McCoy said, following Spock out the door, into the hall, "Chekhov? Really? I don't think this is the proper time to take the kid on a trip with Mommy and Daddy."

"…which one are you?"

"What?"

"Are you the mommy or the daddy?"

"Why does that matter!"

"So you're the weird guy playing with children that aren't yours."

"I don't know! I guess I'd rather be the mommy because most people remember their mothers more fondly than their fathers and they generally get the child sup- that's not important!"

"Look, Chekhov is just as well trained as anyone else, Lord knows he's far more mature and responsible than you and Kirk, and I recorded what you just said and will play it for Kirk if you don't agree to this."

McCoy narrowed his eyes.

"I hate you Vulcans."

"Coming from you, that means a lot. Get ready to go."

-----------------

"God I hate being transported."

"Who doesn't?"

"Me!"

"That's because you're a geek, Chekhov."

"Thank you Captain!"

"I thanked your mom last night."

"That was very polite of you."

"God I hate cultural discrepancies."

"Who doesn't?"

"Me!"

"That's because you're weird, Chekhov."

"Thank you Doctor!"

"That's what _she _said."

"I don't understand."

"God I hate it when people don't get that."

"Who doesn't?"

"Me!"

"That's because -"

"Wait!" McCoy cut off Kirk, "This is really quickly becoming an Abbott and Costello routine."

"Oh my God, _is there nothing but snow on this planet?_" Kirk yelled into the air.

"No, there's construction, too." Chekhov chirped with his usual big grin.

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, didn't you see it?"

"No! Why didn't you say anything?"

"We were having such fun!"

"Damnit, Chekhov! We were ragging on you, that's not supposed to be fun! For you, at least,"

"I always have fun with you and Captain Kirk."

"That would be really cute some other time," Kirk said, laying a gentle hand on Chekhov's shoulder, "Now, can you please lead us back to the construction?"

"Of course!" Chekhov said, striding off in the opposite direction.

"You attract more flies with honey than vinegar." Kirk whispered to McCoy with a wink before following Chekhov.

"Christ, I'd be the daddy after all." McCoy mumbled, and jogged after them.

-----------------

The three stood before a large plot of land with all unholy manner of machinery around, lifting and breaking and digging.

"Question: Why is there construction on a planet with no discernable life? Or appeal?"

"_I don't know_."

"Me neither!"

"Good contribution, Chekhov."

"Thank you!"

"Hey! Hey! What the hell are you doin' standin' over there!"

McCoy glanced around, looking for who said that. Finally, he saw what can only be described as a construction worker, yelling in a construction-worker fashion.

"Um, hi," Kirk yelled back, "We're from Starfleet."

"Congratulations. Again, what are you doin' standin' over there?"

"Um, looking for signs of life?"

"Well, you got it. Leave now."

"Why isn't this planet recorded?"

"'s not open yet,"

"Not open? Planets are always open!"

"Not this one."

"What the fuck?"

The construction worker sighed.

"Look, why dontcha go talk to my boss. His office is around that corner. I gotta get back to work." He then proceeded to leave.

"Fuckin' hate construction workers," McCoy muttered, "Where is the boss's office of yore? I don't see it."

"Right there!" Chekhov chirped, pointing.

"Yeah, it's right there." Kirk said with an especially irritating shrug. McCoy looked to where Chekhov had pointed, and…

"Fuck you." McCoy said, turning to Kirk.

"Don't swing that way, thanks. Let's go."

McCoy sighed.

-----------------

"Yeah, this is gonna be a casino." The boss said.

"The whole planet?"

"Yes. Well, a series of casinos. Not one big one."

"Yeah, I got that."

"Look," The boss said, leaning his chubby elbow on the desk. McCoy didn't know elbows _could _be chubby, they didn't have much fat content, but here it was before him, "This planet had no life. It was just snow. Big waste of space, I figured, so why not build shit. We didn't tell anyone because we wanted it to be finished before people started showing up to complain. It needs to be big and shiny and flashy before people are aware of it, otherwise they won't see the point and shut us down. I got vision, boys, and I don't want no federal Boy Scouts to ruin it."

"That vaguely sounds like a threat."

"It can be whatever you like."

"Wait a minute, Bones," Kirk said, "Let's see what he has to offer."

"Are you serious? That is completely violating regulation -"

"I violated your mom last night!" Chekhov said with a grin.

"You really are like a two year old, aren't you? Isn't he, Kirk?" McCoy turned to Kirk to see him snickering. With an eyeroll, McCoy gave a good elbow to Kirk's rib.

"Come on! It was funny!"

"Guys," the boss said, flashing his slightly yellow teeth, "I think I've found a way to fix this."

"Yeah?" McCoy said.

"One night in our completed hotel-casino, all-expenses paid. _All-expenses_."

Kirk was salivating, and Chekhov just had a big smile, as usual. McCoy sighed.

"Okay. Fine. Let's do it."


End file.
